Bluebell tastes just like the good old days.

I remember our old country home
Clean fresh air and the flowers growing
In the fields, along the path, beside our swimming hole

Momma hollering through the screen
Would you kids like some homemade ice cream?
That was such a simpler time and place
Blue Bell tastes just like the good old days

The previous two paragraphs are from a Bluebell ice cream commercial that was played on the radio relentlessly this past summer.  Does this appeal to anyone?  Because it just bothers the fuck out of me.  I don’t remember the old swimming hole, our old country home, or my “momma hollerin’ through the screen.”  Who are these people talking to?  Why not make a Bluebell commercial targeting the ghetto?  I think if they did it would go something like this…

I remember our old ghetto slum

dirty crack houses and the bullets flying

In the alley, by the dumpster, beside our crack whore Betty

The cops hollering through the speaker

you kids seen this tweeker.

That was such a shitty time and place

Bluebell tastes just like a hooker’s ass.

Something tells me that the advertising executives wouldn’t go for that.  They would cite reasons such as “that doesn’t even rhyme half the time (but that did)”  and “you shouldn’t compare our product to a hooker’s ass.”  Bullshit!  You just don’t like people in the ghetto!  Call Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson!  Let’s march on the Bluebell corporate headquarters!

Am I right?

A certain unnamed individual and I have been having a debate about terrorism.  I say that the use or threat of violence(terror) to achieve a goal is terrorism.  That person disagrees but does not give his/her own definition of terrorism.  So I explained it to him/her like this,  “look mother fucker here is what Merriam-Webster says, “the systematic use of terror especially as a means of coercion.”  To me that’s pretty good.  But no.  Am I right or what?

…but I did stay at a Holiday Inn Express last night

Here’s the newest Holiday Inn Express commercial (in my mind).  It starts at at gynecologist’s office with a woman in stirrups and her lower body is covered in a white sheet.  A man in a white coat walks in and says “let’s have a look.”  He proceeds to pull up a short stool, prod and poke her vagina and make comments such as “well this doesn’t look right, I think we should take a pap smear and possibly biopsy this growth.”  The woman is scared shitless by the word biopsy but is grateful to the doctor because he may have caught the cervical cancer early.  She then proclaims, “thank you doctor.”  At which point he says the inevitable, “oh, I’m not a doctor, but I did stay at a Holiday Inn Express last night.”  The commercial ends with the woman curling up in the fetal position and weeping softly because of the vaginal intrusion by a complete stranger.   I really should write commercials (which is entirely possible due to the writers strike).